


Merlin's friends i

by Lessa



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Oblivious Arthur Pendragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-25 08:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17721536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lessa/pseuds/Lessa
Summary: Arthur knows, but always less than he thinks.Where the Prince isn't quite such an idiot but still doesn't get it.





	1. Chapter 1

Merlin was tidying, sort of. He was too distracted by recent events to concentrate on that.

“ _Please_ don’t feel that you actually have to do any work Merlin, I’m sure it will all happen by itself.” At least he wasn’t the only one to have a crap few days, Arthur’s hadn’t exactly been simple either.

“Sorry sire. I’ll just do the, um...the…” He could _hear_ Arthur rolling his eyes behind him.

“Sweeping, you idiot. You are holding a _sweeping brush_ , god knows why since you clearly aren’t using it.”

“Yes, I was just about to say that sire, sweeping, of course.” He demonstrated.

The prince shook his head, “You really are the _worst_ servant Merlin. Ever. In the whole history of serving.”

Merlin snorted, “Well at least I’m not a clotpole who is drawn in by every pretty girl to visit Camelot, _Sire._ ” Arthur turned to him and raised a sceptical eyebrow,

“Oh? And when did _you_ get to be such an expert on love and attraction? Never heard any stories of _your_ conquests or lovers. Jealousy doesn’t suit you Merlin.”

There was silence in the room for a long moment and then the sound of aggressive brush strokes that sounded abnormally loud, Arthur was amazed at how Merlin could make him feel guilty just by shutting up, it was weird. He sighed,

“Okay, go on. What is it you have to say?” Arthur couldn't quite keep the exasperation from his voice and Merlin shook his head.

“Well sire, this isn’t exactly the first time that a potential partner has been used to attack or injure you, it seems to be a popular, if unoriginal, option. Find a pretty girl of high status, send them to court with offers of riches or ties, throw in an enchantment or a sidhe, hope for your death or defeat. There has to be a way to better screen them and their escorts than the current one, is there even any screening?” Arthur watched him carefully.

“Sidhe?”

Responding without thought Merlin answered him, “Nasty, vindictive little things. Very powerful, play a long game, my least favourite creatures of magic. So far.”

“Really Merlin? Worse than dragons?” Merlin returned his level stare and felt his heart clench again, “Much,  Arthur. Much worse than dragons. At least for me.”

“Uhuh. Are you going to explain _that_ any further or lie appallingly badly?”

Merlin looked up, “The second thing, Sire. Sorry.” The Prince sighed audibly, “You know you really need to watch your tongue Merlin. Half of what you say to me just now is treasonous, and the Knights, well they are not going to buy both that you are an idiot _and_ that you know as much about threats and creatures from studying. Not all of them.”

Merlin shrugged, “They have so far. No one pays attention to servants anyway, we are not important or worth noticing, plus by your own stupid rules it is rude to _see_ us.”

Arthur grimaced, “No one sees _normal_ servants Merlin. You however are a terrible, terrible servant. Incompetent, clumsy, forgetful, and you talk to _me_ like you have no idea who I am. Seriously, how many times in the stocks now?”

Merlin grumbled. “I stopped counting some time ago Arthur. The children know my name though.”

“Just be more careful Merlin. If you are caught and hauled up on _those_ charges not even I will be able to save you, and I really don't want yet another dull George following me. Be especially cautious around Sir Leon, don't underestimate him.”

Merlin nodded, “Thank you Sire for your concern. I am always on guard around anyone but you. Recently you’ve seemed safe, mostly. For a prat.”

“I would still rather we avoid the topic unless it is absolutely necessary for a situation, emergencies _only_ Merlin, not wittering or annoying gossip.”

“Seriously? Gossip about magic, in Camelot? You do know that is _illegal_ sire.” Arthur growled.

“Don't forget it. Just because _I_ am trying to look the other way don't think anyone else will.”

Merlin carried on with his chores before pausing. “You know it is not really me you are pissed at tonight, right? It's at least partly due to yet another performance where two kings exhibit their offspring and try to push them together for selfish gain. Also the almost getting killed by a princess _again._ I mean that has got to get a little boring after a while.”

“Fine, I don’t like it. Satisfied? Now about _your_ love life, surely after so long here there must be _someone_ you at least have an interest in.” Merlin was quiet for a long moment before answering the Prince.  “Interest is not really enough. When living in a place where my existence is punishable by execution, and a liaison is also a crime punished by death, any children condemned by birth, it's asking someone to take a very big risk for very little return. The pool of possible and willing partners is also severely reduced by having to find someone who accepts magic, most of whom have fled or died at the king’s hands. Camelot is a lot like a monastery from that perspective. There was one girl, but she...well she was killed...and now being with me is just too dangerous to ask of anyone.” Arthur was struck by the quiet resignation Merlin’s voice. He hadn't considered that all friends and lovers of Merlin could also be guilty of fraternising with a sorcerer. No. Warlock was what Merlin had called himself, magic at birth, magic itself. He shuddered. It still chilled him that a person could look so _normal_ and yet be so fundamentally different. No one would know by looking at Merlin what he was. He hadn't. He had to give the young man credit though on restraint for others safety. He tried not to run the list of Merlin’s friends through his head, Guinivere was top of the list. After himself.  He had been silent too long. When had Merlin lost a girlfriend though? And why hadn’t he known? It was far too late to change though and his manservant seemed to have forgiven it. He wondered if he could ever forgive someone who killed Guinivere, if they had to, he knew the answer in his heart. Merlin was a better man than he.

“How is it that you can forgive so much, so easily Merlin?” Arthur surprised himself. It was not what he meant to say.

Merlin’s face went blank as he shook his head, as though trying to clear it, “Because I have to Arthur. It is hard, but if I carry grudges, or allow anger to grow, gods if I _get_ fully angry with the kind of power in me, it's dangerous. _Really_ dangerous. If I couldn’t forgive then I would become like Nimueh. Maybe worse. I can’t _let_ that happen.” Arthur wondered how his gentle manservant _knew_ that, wondered if he wanted to know the answer. Merlin wasn't volunteering any details. He rarely did, it was safer not to. Arthur tried to respect that. Sort of. He was not accustomed to having people stubbornly withhold information from him,  but then he wasn’t accustomed to people behaving or speaking to him as though they were equals either. Merlin seemed

determined to break all the established rules, even treating him as a friend when the King was not present. Arthur sighed, nothing made sense anymore.

“We should find you a girl. One that _won't_ make you angry. Can't very well have you poaching from prisoners.” He spoke lightly but for some reason Merlin’s expression showed guilt, and a profound sorrow.  Arthur wondered if he had imagined it as Merlin turned around grinning, “and you call _me_ a girl sire, you're getting as bad as Gwen for matchmaking attempts!” Arthur accepted the end of the discussion as what it was.

“Well if you are quite finished your dallying with that brush perhaps you could get on and _finally_ draw me a bath! Been a long few days for us all,  but back to normal in the morning now that they have gone, so you can look forward to polishing my armour, doing the sheets, cleaning our boots, and there's training of course…” Merlin smiled in relief that his sometimes rather thick prince had accepted that the topic of partners was off limits. Not that he had _time_ for a relationship anyway. No sane person would be trying to do 3 full time jobs, but somehow he had been tricked into exactly that. At least it gave him a simple excuse that most wouldn’t question. He left to fetch the water needed for a bath, leaving the Prince alone with his thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

Gaius came in late. It may have been his quarters but this had become Merlin’s home too; at least he _thought_ it had, and after their argument he had wanted to give the boy some space. It wasn’t that he did not wish to tell Morgana the truth of herself, he truly did, but Morgana’s history, and her _childhood_ was more complicated than Merlin could imagine, and her Sight was her inheritance, as Merlin would in time come into his. Moreover, if he told _Morgana_ such truths she would pursue them, and her own history was bound up with Merlin’s more than either of them knew.

His boy had never learned politics like the Lady Morgana had, had never _had_ to use information and secrets to manipulate, or studied strategy. Court life did not allow one such luxuries as play. Women especially were brought up knowing themselves to be pawns. They knew from an early age that they had a trade value, and how very fragile that value could be, to make a mistake could mean a lifetime trapped with a bully or worse. Merlin, Gaius knew, was naive still, and it was so very easy to forget just how very _young_ he was, especially when he took on so many adult responsibilities so early, had been forced by circumstance to do so.

Not unlike the Lady Morgana, but they were so very, very different by nature.

 

The old man screwed his eyes shut against the memories that assaulted him as he sat in front of the fire to warm old bones and cast a look towards his ward’s bedroom, sighing.

Gaius had known Lady Vivienne when she was young, when they were _all_ so much younger and still so innocent. Gods what he wouldn’t given to feel that just for a day again.

She had been strong then, and respected for it. Beautiful, and strong willed like her daughter, diligent and determined. He remembered far, far too clearly her crumbling, slowly retreating into herself like a shell as visions assaulted her and her friends stopped asking about them as it gained no answers, only more tears. That had frightened him as a young man, that what she saw was enough to make the brave woman weep. Had he but known what was to come he would have offered no comfort but wept with her.

Gorlois had known her from childhood and fought for her sanity as he fought for Uther Before Igraine’s death. Always now Gaius divided time into Before and After, because how could one not?

Gorlois had known as he first held his baby daughter than she would have magic and been thankful for it, not knowing that only a few years later he would beg his friend to smuggle Morgause out, and with the help of her gods-father Balinor it would be done. He’d wanted to see her safely delivered himself but had enough forethought to know that information one did not know, one could not confess, even at the hands or Aredian’s ilk. Morgana had been too young at the time, only a babe in arms, and had remained in Tintagel through the height of the purge, conveniently away from notice.  Gorlois, whilst she was so very young was more than happy to keep his obviously magical wife and her baby out of sight, managed it so well in fact that it seemed many surviving courtiers had no idea of Morgana’s lineage beyond her parents names and the lands her future husband would inherit.

When Morgana was weaned the Lady Vivienne sent word ahead of her intended visit, leaving her daughter safely in the care of her nanny for the few short weeks she would be gone, promising to bring back presents. Morgana had screamed herself hoarse and fought, kicked and bitten her way through, trying to drag her mother from the waiting horses, completely out of

character for the independent little girl. Vivienne never reached Camelot. There was a half plausible story put out about increased attacks on the road and misfortune but few truly believed the reports now other than the confirmation of yet another death. Gaius was certain that the child had seen her Mother’s death. He knew how little distance, or even time, meant to Seers, and his heart bled for the atrocities the child must have witnessed, seen repeated, been powerless to prevent, and he had watched the child fade, just as he had watched his friend vanish into her nightmares and visions until she could not face the world and retreated from everyone. He had watched  _ Vivienne _ become catatonic as she flickered through the different perspectives of similar events until she couldn’t separate reality from her dreams. If such terrible sights broke an adult who was trained in her talents by the priestesses  _ before _ it was illegal to See and seek support, what chance did a child have, who had no chance of training, in a land where her own guardian would burn her. Merlin may have strong magic, but he was  _ not _ a seer, he had no experience that could possibly help Morgana, and no formal training of his own either. They would feel less alone, true, but little more than that for now, likely encouraging each other to attempt dangerous things without guidance or safety provisions.

Gaius was sure no-one else but Gwen had seen Morgana trapped in her mind, or having to be held down and sedated when she simply could not stop screaming, he had lied for her when, eyes glazed over, she had slapped him and drawn blood. The mental fractures were already there and it was like watching history repeat itself. 

There were things she had seen after coming to Camelot that Merlin could not yet conceive of, and the King was not a gentle man. In his capacity as court physician Gaius knew more than anyone of what both ward and son had suffered at his hands, and those of his enemies. There were memories Morgana carried that were not her own and he knew well that there were times she could not remember whether they were her own or someone else’s. As time went on she had slipped up more than once and noticed nothing unusual about it. There was no simple ‘cure’ for the poor girl, and never would be, only dragon magic would truly help, which was more depressing than helpful. Especially since Kilgarrah had something of a grudge against the woman.

Privately Gaius was of the opinion that if the visions had not revealed Merlin’s magic to her then there was probably a reason.

Then again, he knew what the prophecies said, and both of them could not remain ‘good’, for if Emrys and The Witch united, they would truly be unstoppable, and the world would be out of balance. The old religion would never stand for it. 

The world may teeter on the brink but Gaius would take even the shortest moment of calm before the storm that he knew must come in order to restore the balance.

Love and hate, Light and dark, neither could be complete without the other, like the cycle of the sun and the moon, summer and winter. He couldn’t save them both. Once again he was left with the choice of who lived, and with a heavy heart realised it had never been a choice at all, and so Merlin lived, Gaius vowing to protect him to his last breath. After all, if Emrys was truly immortal, to sacrifice him to the darkness would not end Albion. It would end  _ everything _ . 

Let him at least be wrong about that one, oh please let it be a title only! Yet unlike Merlin, Gaius was not a naive youth, still full of hope, he was a jaded old man, full of grief and regrets, and he  knew deep in his soul that fate was never so kind. Another truth to never speak, to lock away and hide. If there was any mercy he’d be gone before Merlin realised the meaning of his name enough to ask, but Gaius was old and worn, and he  _ knew _ that fate was  _ never  _ that kind.


End file.
